


Eric Bittle's First Kiss

by omgericzimmermann (HMSLusitania)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Platonic Kissing, but in a slightly altered universe way, okay maybe more than slightly, rather than an entirely alternate universe, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:50:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7212259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSLusitania/pseuds/omgericzimmermann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty doesn't mean to confess to Shitty, Ransom, and Holster that he's never kissed anyone before. It just sort of...slips out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eric Bittle's First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I was given this prompt: 
> 
>  
> 
> _I cannot get the image of drunk Bitty out of my head, who is loudly worrying that he's a bad kisser because he's never kissed anyone before, and Shitty, Ransom, and Holster (who are also very drunk) volunteering to help him practice. And Bitty, being in an inebriated state, thinks this is a great idea. So Bitty gets passed around for kissing practice and Jack is seethes in a corner til he can't take it anymore and kisses Bitty himself._

Bitty has never really been drunk before. He can’t think of a safer place to be drunk for the first time than in the company of Shitty, Ransom, and Holster, all of whom he trusts with his life. He knows they’ve all been smoking pot, but they stopped offering him some after the very first time he said no, which he appreciates.

The problem is, Bitty doesn’t know what kind of drunk he’s going to be. Is he going to be belligerent like his dad, is he going to be bitter like his Aunt Sharon, is he going to be giggly like his mom?

He discovers around midnight that he’s an emotional drunk. He can hope that this will change as he gets older, but a nagging voice in the back of his head says that seems unlikely.

It’s also around midnight that he realises, to his dismay, that Jack is in the room as well. Bitty takes one look at him before pressing his face into Shitty’s shoulder so that Jack can’t see him this way. It makes sense to his alcohol infused brain.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Shitty asks, kissing the top of Bitty’s head the way Shitty tends to do.

“I just – Shitty it’s so bad,” Bitty says, covering the side of his face so that Jack can’t see any part of his expression. “I mean, like, it’s so bad.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific Bits,” Shitty says.

“If I liked an older guy and if we ever got to the point of doing _things_ , then I’d have to tell him, you know?” Bitty says.

“No,” Shitty says. “I – I don’t know. What would you have to tell him? Because I’m pretty sure that by the point you got to doing things he’d already know that you were into dudes.”

“No, I’d have to tell him I’ve never even kissed anyone,” Bitty says. He says this louder than he means to; Ransom and Holster stop staring at their Golden Girls marathon and turn to stare at Bitty instead while he flushes bright red. Bitty doesn’t mean to look at Jack, but he does. Jack, not sitting on the couch with them, is very dedicatedly studying the label on his bottle of some obscure Canadian beer Bitty has never heard of.

“Bits,” Holster says, his eyes going misty behind his glasses. “Bits I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve fixed you up in seconds--”

“Half a second--” Ransom interrupts.

“Half a second,” Holster agrees. “I mean, fuck bruh, we could’ve helped you _ourselves_.”

“What,” Bitty says because suddenly Holster is kneeling in front of his part of the couch, which conveniently brings the very giant defence man up to Bitty’s face level.

“Eric Bittle, may I kiss you?” Holster asks.

Bitty giggles and nods, and Holster leans forward, pressing his lips to Bitty’s. He needs to shave and Bitty gets stabbed in the jaw by his stubble, and Holster’s glasses accidentally touch Bitty’s nose, at which point Holster retracts from the kiss in order to spend more time staring in despair at his lenses. Bitty giggles out an apology.

“No that was the shittiest first kiss you could ever have,” Ransom says, dragging Holster away from him. “The only thing Adam is coordinated enough to do when he’s high is give a very sloppy blowjob and you’re not there yet.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Did you just call him Adam?” Jack asks, speaking for the first time. He’s frowning at the couch, and has started a second beer. Bitty’s not sure when he finished the first one.

“Really? That’s the fucking statement that makes you worry?” Shitty asks.

Bitty can only giggle because Ransom is kneeling where Holster had been moments ago, and after acquiring Bitty’s permission, Ransom cradles the back of his head and presses their lips together. Ransom’s face is less prickly than Holster’s and his lips are softer and wetter when they slide against Bitty’s and maybe this is definitely how a kiss is supposed to feel. But Bitty had always heard there were supposed to be butterflies in your stomach, and there’s…nothing.

“Alright, Rans, don’t stick your tongue down the kid’s throat,” Shitty says, pulling Ransom away. There’s a popping noise when he does and Bitty realises it comes from his own mouth. He giggles again.

Then he notices Jack is glowering at both Ransom and Holster, who have appropriated each other’s laps at the end of the couch in some kind of generally improbable Mobius strip that makes Bitty question his own sanity. And Jack is glowering at them. Hard.

“See, Bits?” Shitty says, draping an arm across Bitty’s shoulders. “There’s nothing to it. Casual as can be.”

Bitty is expecting it when Shitty leans down and kisses him smack on the lips. Bitty sneezes when Shitty’s moustache tickles his nose.

“You’re all way too drunk to actually kiss him properly,” Jack says, standing up from the floor. All four of them stare at him in shock, and Bitty knows their eyes are as wide as his. He doesn’t turn to look because Jack is walking purposefully towards him. Jack is pulling him up from the couch with one arm around his waist, the other hand softly cradling his jaw, and Jack is kissing him. There are Bitty’s promised butterflies, exploding in his chest and stomach and making his skin feel like it’s on fire in the best possible way.

Jack’s lips are soft and they stick to Bitty’s until Jack’s tongue brushes between them. When Bitty gasps a bit in shock, because his heartrate is skyrocketing, because this is the most erotic thing that has ever happened to him in his entire eighteen years of life, Jack’s tongue ventures into his mouth briefly and presses against his own for a second and Bitty is pretty sure he’s actually dead by this point. He can barely breathe and the few breaths he’s been able to take have been full of Jack.

“It’s getting late,” Jack says, letting go of Bitty and stepping back. The only indication on his face that something just happened is that his pupils are dilated and his lips are a little red. “We’ve got practice in the morning.”

“Oh,” Bitty says. He’s pretty sure he looks wrecked because he can feel how big his eyes are and when Jack glances at him, Jack fucking Zimmermann flushes.

“I’ll walk you back to the dorms,” Jack mumbles, grabbing his coat.

Bitty follows numbly, still in shock. On the couch, Shitty’s jaw is hanging open, for once without anything to say. Ransom has soccer mommed him, one long arm thrown across his chest to keep him from falling forward. Holster, actually Holster doesn’t look shocked, but then again, Holster has one hand up Ransom’s shirt and is running it across his abs while the other plays with the button on Ransom’s shorts, so Holster is a bit distracted.

Bitty shuts the door to the Haus behind him and jogs to catch up to Jack. As usual, Jack has his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat and his head bowed.

The awkward silence lasts for a few blocks and then they clear their throats at the same time. After a brief round of “no you go first” Jack is coaxed into speaking.

“I’m sorry if that wasn’t okay,” Jack says. “I didn’t – I didn’t ask permission like the others and I’m sure Shitty would’ve yelled at me if he’d been sober.”

“You’re fine,” Bitty says, blushing while he says it. He doesn’t feel drunk anymore. He certainly feels intoxicated, but he’s more drunk on Jack’s kiss than he is on alcohol. “You’re a better kisser than any of them were.”

It’s Jack’s turn to blush and Bitty is pretty sure he loves making Jack blush.

“I--” Jack starts. He pauses on the bridge and scuffs a pebble with his toe, sending it into the water. “I meant it more than they did.”

Bitty’s pretty sure his heart’s about to beat out of his chest. “You – you meant it?”

Jack looks at him with impossibly vulnerable bright blue eyes and Bitty can’t stop himself from throwing his arms around Jack’s shoulders and standing on his toes to kiss him again. Jack wraps his arms around him again and holds Bitty close.

Bitty’s pretty sure it doesn’t get better than making out with Jack Zimmermann on the bridge over the Samwell River at midnight, the coldness of the November night chased away by how warm Jack’s hands are where they press him closer.

It does.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come cry with me on [tumblr.](http://omgericzimmermann.tumblr.com)


End file.
